


Immiscible

by highfunctioningenius



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Drift Side Effects, Emotional Constipation, First Kiss, M/M, ghost!drifting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-08 22:39:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1958772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/highfunctioningenius/pseuds/highfunctioningenius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt accidentally eavesdrops on Hermann's dreams, as he has been doing often since they saved the world together, and learns something in the process.<br/>also there is a piano in the lab, hidden away somewhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oil and Water

Newt woke suddenly from dreams tinted blue, wading through emotions that didn't belong to him, but felt like his. This phenomenon was not new; it had been like this for weeks. Each new morning he would wake in a bed that didn't fit the consuming nostalgia and grief he felt which are not his own and yet fill him, dragging him into unwanted wakefulness, and he would know a little too much about Physics or Math or English boarding school.

 Rubbing his eyes, he rolled over on the stiff cot bed, and yeah, he should probably find a better mattress now that the world isn't actively ending if he wants any relief from his damn aching leg. But that pain didn't belong to him did it? It felt familiar and constant, but the sharpness of the pain is softened by the blue edge of that place in his thoughts at the back of his mind; the part belonging to Hermann. 

 The thought of his grouchy partner filled him with a new wave of sadness as opened his eyes to the decidedly not blue room he occupied. His walls memorialized his life through rows of movie posters from his twenties, and his dresser held his only lasting relic from his years at MIT; his Godzilla alarm clock which he was given when he started at 14 years old. It had followed him through every move, from apartment to apartment to residency to each proceeding Shatterdome as the world threatened to end. Now it sat atop his PPDC issued dresser and taunted him cruelly by displaying the entirely unhelpful god-awful morning time with far too much cheerfulness. 3 AM. God…

Hermann still slept, Newt knew. The itch at the back of his mind that had lived there since the Drift was quiet, but still achingly blue, and full of… Music?

The dream came back to him in a shaky series of images and impressions, like someone tried to make a video out of an extremely outdated film camera, and were running the film rapidly in front of his eyes. And yup, definitely weird that he could tell at any given moment where Hermann was or if he was actively conscious or not.  Newt sighed. Oh well, it didn't change the damn music stuck in his head that he didn't even like before the drift.

He knew Hermann liked piano but he didn't know he could like _play_ Beethoven with relative ease, and God, having the piano under those boxes in the lab was such a waste!

Standing, he pulled on an old, not too kaiju stained t-shirt and a pair of grey, Government Issue PJ pants. He cracked his neck to each side and found himself creeping out of the bedroom door and straight into the dimly lit, and currently silent shared lab.

Newt had a hypothesis he needed to test now because yeah, he can play four instruments proficiently and had been in a Band for crying out loud, but he never felt so desperate to play the piano as he did right in that moment, especially Beethoven, like what was with Hermann and Beethoven man?

Anyways he was pretty sure that the weird Drift-dreaming he had just been doing may have taught him how to play classical music on the piano, like, sure it helped that he had a photographic memory, and had just seen himself playing Moonlight Sonata with no mistakes through Hermann’s eyes, and yeah, apparently Drifting makes you into a pretty intense creeper, what’s with that?

But dammit, he has to play… for science.

And maybe also a little bit for the ache of nostalgia and grief filling his thoracic cavity and the blue edge of his consciousness, where Hermann was sleeping.

So he bee-lined  it straight to the pile of boxes he knows is hiding his third most prized possession in the corner of the lab, behind Hermann’s chalkboards.

We wasted no time in clearing the boxes away and pulling the (thankfully wheeled) piano away from where it was pressed against the wall, before sitting on its bench and gently resting his fingers on the ivory. He let out a breath.  

Closing his eyes he could see the keys being struck by fingers longer, thinner and younger than his own, and let his own follow their lead, replicating their easy movement over the ivory. The slow tune filled the lab and Newt opened his eyes to the keys. The song was familiar to his hands, but he was sure he never played it before. He is a rock star after all, not some lame ass classical buff. And yet it was comfortable, it felt so natural to follow the progression of keys he had memorized by watching Hermann’s young hands in his dream. Jesus he had barely been 9 years old and could play so well, but Newt knew also the drive to be something his parents could be proud of, and he knew how hard Hermann pushed himself to get to this point. He knew the desperate sadness Hermann had felt when he realized that nothing he did would be enough. His eyes flickered shut again and he once more let the liquid blue feelings fill his chest. It was almost too much. A rush of fondness not his own flooded him. He sighed and played more deliberately. A familiar and yet strange memory of a notebook filled with piano music filled his vision.

_Beethoven’s moonlight sonata 1 st movement_

Newt chuckled to himself; eyes still fixed shut so as to watch the dream-like movement of fingers gently caressing the worn pages, flipping through them quietly. The memory faded as an empty page was reached, and a black pen, held in not-his-hand touched down softly to draw a new bar.

The warmth and comfort following that thought made Newt want to cry. But crying is definitely not what he was doing. Nope. Never. He’s a rockstar; rockstars don’t cry. He bit his lip and gave up trying to sort through the rush of emotions. Shoving those emotions back into the corner of his mind labeled “Hermann,” he let his fingers still, leaving the movement unfinished.

The heavy click of a door shutting snapped him out of his reverie, and he jumped away from the piano, looking around frantically, seeing nothing but an empty lab, his open door, and Hermann’s closed one beside it.

There was a feeling like oil on water for a moment, where Newt could feel his own heartbeat overlaying that of a certain German scientist who was definitely not in the room, and whose heart was definitely beating too fast.

The feeling was gone a second later, but Newt was left with the strange sense of needing to catch his breath.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was unbeta'd and my first fanfic so all mistakes are mine, but I was inspired by these stupid German geniuses and this just sort of happened. I already read 90% of the fics about these two posted on Ao3, and I figured there wasn't enough. Anyways, any and all critiques and comments are welcome. I hope you liked it.


	2. Emulsion

Herman leaned back against the heavy steel door to his room, struggling to fill his lungs properly after having all the air stolen from them. Why did Newton have to play _that_ song?

~

He had been dreaming just a moment prior, about playing Beethoven’s moonlight sonata as a child, hoping his parents would be proud, but filled with a resentful sadness because he knew it wouldn’t work. That song meant too much to him; it always made him feel too much.

But he woke up this time, and the song didn’t stop. It hung in the air around him, pressing tight against his ribs, urging the long forgotten resentment to bloom forth again 27 years later. So perhaps he was still dreaming. The sorrowful notes filled the small bedroom as his mind struggled to differentiate between dream and reality. A sharp pain running through his leg and hip declared that he was awake despite the music’s assurances otherwise.

Hermann rubbed his eyes roughly, sitting up and willing the last of the memory/dream away. The music hadn’t stopped and it occurred to him that perhaps it wasn’t just an echoing memory or waking dream, but was actually playing somewhere. He stood slowly, stretching out his bad leg with a grimace. Looking around his room he noted nothing out of the ordinary that might explain the sonata following him into wakefulness. Everything was still exactly where it belonged: books stacked in alphabetical piles by subject in the corners of the tiny room, papers in their meticulously ordered folders, tablet resting on the pitifully small desk, cane hooked on the frame of his bed. Nothing was disturbed from where he had left it, so the music must have come from outside his room.

He cracked his neck and grabbed the cane leaning on it carefully. Limping stiffly to the heavy door he confirmed his suspicions by opening it slightly and peering out.

Newton. Of course.

He should have recognized that half of what he was feeling didn’t originate in his room either, and that Newton had something to do with all of this. But of course he had been too busy pretending that Newton hadn’t seen half of what he did in the drift too realize exactly how much was out of place.  

So maybe it would have been more obvious if he had paid proper attention, but he hadn’t.  Either way the fact remained that Newton was behind almost everything that confused and frustrated Hermann, and this was no different.

The mad biologist had managed to unearth the old piano they had buried in the back corner of the lab, just beyond his chalkboards, and he was playing the damn thing. Quite well too, which should have been irrelevant but, like many Newton-centric things, wasn’t. Hermann tried to feel irritated at having been woken up by the idiot, but couldn’t stop the surge of fondness that filled him in irritation’s place.

Damn it.

He couldn’t explain what kept him there, standing stiffly in the doorway, watching Newton play, but he did, picturing the way his fingers must move to press each ivory note into existence between them. To him the movements were practiced and easy, but to Newton they should be slow and unsure, hesitant even. He shouldn't be able to play so easily. And yet here he was, caressing the keys like he had been playing this melody his whole life.  And Hermann was watching.

The fondness he felt mixed with a new, raw need and passion, blue tinted and overwhelming.

He was holding a guitar in his lap, rested on his crossed legs while he leaned over to write a few more bars down in the book spread open on the carpet in front of him. The melody wouldn't obey him, the harmonies were too awkwardly thrown together, but he would fix that once he finished this next bar. The notes kept bursting forth, driving his callused fingers over the strings, over and over with just enough force.  But he never played the guitar, did he?

The image faded abruptly, and a cold washed over him like he had stepped into the waves of the Pacific. Newton’s fingers had stilled, and he was looking down at them, brow furrowed. There was a choked back feeling heavy in his stomach, along with a self deprecating frustration that didn't belong to him. It was too much for once person to have sourced it all.

Hurriedly Hermann stepped back fully into his room, swinging the door back shut in a panic. His leg buckled harshly at the shift in his weight and he remembered where he was. He turned to lean back against the door, and eased himself down to sitting.

 He is Hermann Gottlieb, PhD. He plays the Piano, not the Guitar. Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata makes him feel… too many things, like it always has. But that doesn't matter because he is a scientist and a mathematician and does not let his fear and passion and anger and joy get in the way of his work. Doctor Newton Geiszler is his lab partner.

He couldn't breathe.

His heart beat too fast and he didn't know why because god damn it he isn't a biologist, that’s Newton, and thinking about Newton was definitely only making it harder to think rationally. And he shouldn't be freaking out at all because that’s something Newton does, not him. God damn him if Newton changed more than just his memories because thinking this quickly with so much unaddressed emotional stress was fucking unpleasant.

God damn it all.

He closed his eyes and struggled to catch his breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as you can see this chapter was from Hermann's point of view, and overlaps plot with the first chapter. The next chapter will pick up some new plot I promise. anyways, I hope you enjoyed and I hope to hear from you in the comments.


	3. Sedimentation

After staring at the closed door for far too many moments, Newt stood shakily from the wooden piano bench. He hesitated, not knowing whether to sit back down or to walk across the lab to the two side by side large doors barring the scientist’s rooms from the lab.

The unfamiliar, shaky feeling settled deep in his gut made the decision for him eventually. He walked briskly past the chalkboards, then the couch, then through his half of the lab, and found himself waiting with a fist raised to knock on Hermann’s door. He shuffled anxiously from foot to foot while trying to gain the courage to move.

~

For a minute Hermann let himself focus on the Newton-centric channels of his mind, trying to get a grasp on where Newton was and what he was thinking, but he could only find the echoes of the songs he wrote as a teenager, and that did nothing but feed his guilt and discomfort.

Hermann's uneasiness increased with each passing moment, until he had no choice but to rise to his feet, shakily gripping his cane until his knuckles were white and pressing out sharply against his skin.

Turning to face the door once more, he let go of his cane with one hand, doubling the grasp of the other and grabbed the cool metal handle. He inhaled deeply and swung the door in, unsure as to what he would find waiting for him.

~

Newt brought his knuckles down against the door just as it began to swing open, nearly throwing him off balance. He caught himself with a hand on the doorframe, and stared at Hermann with both eyebrows raised.

He was surprised, although mostly at the fact that he had been so lost in his own anxious memories that he hadn't sensed Hermann standing just on the other side of the door. He'd only been vaguely aware of discomfort he had falsely attributed to himself, and had evidently missed some serious empirical evidence. or something.

Not knowing what else to do Newton looked down at his feet, which were bare and numb on the steel floor. He wiggled his toes absently.

~

Hermann was shocked to find Newton less than a foot from him, standing in his doorway, but he shook the feeling off and stepped aside stiffly to let him in.

“Newton” he said slowly, his voice little more than a croak.

“Hermann” the blasted idiot replied with the same slowness, mocking him no doubt.

He scowled, forgetting his unsteady emotions in favor of irritation at the short scientist daring to stare at him with so much curiosity and fondness it hurt.

Newton moved first from their awkward stalemate, stepping through the open door and into the dark room beyond.

Hermann snapped out of staring and hurried over to sit on his desk chair before his leg had a chance to protest again. To his shame and horror, Newton must have recognized his pained grimace, for the idiot had rushed over and was peering down at him with far too much concern for such a little thing.

“Shit man, are you okay? Do you need anything? How long have you been up? God, I’m sorry.”

Damn him.

“No Newton, I’m alright. Just tired. You did wake me up with that awful racket after all.”

It was untrue and unkind but at the moment Hermann could not find it in him to care much.

Newton did not need to know just how much he had been picking up on from him lately, and Hermann did not want to admit to anything just yet. He closed his eyes and hoped Newton would let it go.

~

Newt chewed his lip worriedly but backed off anyways. He could feel the pain and irritation and shame of his friend sinking into his gut well enough, and decided it was best not to argue the point this time.

“I’m… Sorry.” He said lamely, looking away.

The silence that followed was heavy with unsaid understandings and emotions magnified as they were mirrored between them. There was so much of that unfamiliar feeling settling painfully over his shoulders and he wanted to scream until the tension was gone, but he couldn't tell who was feeling it anymore.

Newt was far too aware of Hermann's frustration, but there was too much regret cycling between them for it all to have been his own.

Why couldn't that damned man put aside his pride for a second and acknowledge what they both now knew? Of course, if Hermann didn't want to mention the damn obvious fact that they were in each other’s heads, newt won’t be the one to shatter the silence. After all, they've gone this long without mentioning it and maybe it’s best for both of them. And who knows, maybe it’s just been newt who has been snooping through Hermann’s dreams, and wow that just makes him feel shitty as fuck. And that really would explain Hermann’s reaction to him playing the piano, because it is such clear evidence that he has been creeping around Hermann’s more private memories. Like, neither of them had stolen the other’s artistic skills before, so it might be about time they addressed it. Although there’s a lot more to hide from in their shared silence than just discussions of skills passed through the drift wasn't there.

“Newton.”

The sharp sound of his name cut his internal ramblings short. By the sound of it, Hermann had said that multiple times already, and yeah he definitely could feel Hermann’s resounding worry at the back of his consciousness and he should probably say something back now.

“Newt!”

Yeah, it was definitely time to stop thinking and start saying something.

“Yeah?” there, that would work.

The relief was palpable as it filled his drift partner.

“We should talk about this.” Hermann’s voice was softer now, but still had an uneasy edge to it.

Okay maybe he doesn't have to be the one to bring it up after all. Awesome.

“This?” he asked

The worried feeling was back, which was definitely not good. Try again.

“I mean, right now? Are you sure? Because we can totally keep ignoring the fact that I know pretty much everything about you like we always do if you like.”

“I'm sure”

Damn it.

Hermann paused, allowing Newt’s anxiety to build exponentially with each second before,

“Why that song Newton?”


	4. Decanting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long to publish, I hope it is worth the wait.

Newt let out a shaky huff of a laugh.

“Well uh, that’s, erm, a good question Hermann. I know it’s like really creepy and stuff, and if I could it totally wouldn't happen but like apparently drifting turns you into a giant creep, and I can’t really do anything about it no matter how much I want to. See the thing is I thought it was a drift thing, and that you were doing the same thing but like I guess I was wrong, and geez man, if I knew that it was just me I definitely wouldn't have experimented with it because damn that was basically just putting up a neon sign like ‘Newton’s been taking advantage of the things he saw in the drift’ which is exactly what I didn't think I was doing, so like you can’t really fault me there.”

He took a breath, and Hermann managed to fill the short lull in manic ramblings,

“Calm down Newton, and tell me what the hell you are going on about.”

Newton nodded his head frantically in the space before replying, giving himself a moment to collect himself and try again.

“Dude, I thought I was dreaming what you were dreaming. That’s all. So like, if you are upset with me because you weren't dreaming about kicking ass on the piano, then I am totally sorry. I didn't mean to creep on your memories like that. I just woke up and that song was like completely ingrained in my memory and I needed to see if I could actually play it because I needed to be able to do something impressi-“

He froze mid word, mouth slightly opened as it dawned on him that what he was feeling was just as much stolen from his grumpy lab partner as the song itself.

“Shit. Sorry. I… Fuck.”

He gave up on explaining himself and stared at the floor, waiting for Hermann to start shouting at him or something.

~

Hermann stared at Newton as though he could drill his way straight back into his mind with just his gaze. He took a long moment to sort out his thoughts, sorting through all that Newton had managed to say before inevitably falling silent and trying to discern whether Newton had really implied what he had hoped. After almost a minute passed in silence Hermann noticed the buzz of anxiety he was feeling had increased to the point where he no longer could sit still. He stood up and spoke in such a way that left no room for misunderstandings.  
  
"Newton, I believe I have overreacted. I had made a clearly false assumption, and I was wrong. I had thought that you had been privy to more through the drift than you had, and that you playing that song was some cruel attempt to... Never mind, it is unimportant. What is important however is the fact that... Well... I don't mind as much as I should that... I mean, I was dreaming about as you say ‘kicking ass on the piano’ I just was unsure if I was dreaming of that again because you were playing it or the other way around."  
  
Newton looked up at him as though unsure if he were allowed to speak. He looked so confused and conflicted, which was evidence supported by the fearful wave of emotion Hermann caught the edge of upon making eye contact.  
  
"Dude," Newton said without eloquence, “other way around.”  
  
Hermann's mouth twitched at the corners as Newton's fear gave in to his own fondness which he attempted to stifle before Newton could catch on.  
  
Newton looked at him knowingly and the fondness was quashed under an acute sense of self loathing. Hermann tried to get a grip on his emotions as quickly as possible, and attempted to distract Newton simultaneously with a sharply asked question.  
  
"to what extent have you been eavesdropping on my thoughts Newton?" he grumbled "I am sure it is unusual for drift partners to sense each other's emotions and dreams so long after a drift, and yet I have no other explanation for any of this."  
  
Newton continued to stare at him with the same bewildered expression in place.  
  
"Dude, you mean you've been feeling it too?"  
  
Hermann only nodded.

Newton tried to keep himself from grinning like a mad man at the discovery that he wasn’t the only one who has been affected by the Kaiju drift, but was infuriatingly unsuccessful.

  
"Man we really should like, study this or something, scientifically it's kinda fascinating. What kinds of stuff have you been getting from me Herms? ‘Cuz like I've been getting numbers and music from you, especially when we're both asleep, but also a lot of stuff I don't understand, like really out of place feelings and stuff.”

  
Hermann definite did not start blushing at those implications, he had control over his reaction, and he could handle the crippling embarrassment and self hatred that came with Newton knowing too much about how he felt. What he couldn't handle was standing over him like that any longer. So he sat on the bed next to Newton and watched his own hands intently.

“Don’t call me that.” He managed to say, although his intended sharpness was nowhere to be found and to his horror his voice cracked at the last word.

Newton laughed in a short huff and Hermann’s head snapped around so he could glare at him. Newton recoiled much to his satisfaction.

“Sorry Herms, I mean Hermann. That was just really funny.”

Hermann rolled his eyes and huffed quietly.

“Hardly, you know I do not appreciate the use of such idiotic pet names”

He spat out the last two words like they were poisonous. Newton laughed again.  

~

The amount of pure relief and happiness Newt felt as their banter returned was tarnished only by the thick wall at the back of his mind keeping whatever Hermann was really feeling out.

“Dude, what the hell are you trying to hide, we both know everything about each other. There’s no point”

Hermann flinched and Newt immediately felt guilty for pointing it out. He has got to get a better grasp on what’s okay to talk about now.

Although he really did want to know why Hermann was being so… embarrassed? In all Newt’s years working with Hermann, he never saw him remorseful or ashamed of anything, but pretty much all night he has been acting like he’s got something to hide, and Newt hated it.

“I’m serious. What are you so afraid of me knowing?”

Maybe that should have been a clue to stop talking, because really he should be able to handle not knowing one little thing about his friend, but he is not just a friend, he is also a scientist, and he really doesn't like not knowing things.

Hermann looked like he might burst or pass out his face was so red, and Newt finally decided that yeah, sometimes scientific curiosity isn't really that important. He shut up, but did not stop watching Hermann, because yeah, it didn't look to good how still Hermann was.

He was about to break the silence again to remind Hermann how important breathing was when he moved at last. And a moment later there was a pair of soft, thin lips pressing against his like it was the most important thing in the world. 


	5. homogeneous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long. I gave up on it for quite a while because i have something against posting chapters that are under 1000 words. however I am tired of beating this chapter around and not getting any further, so here it is at last.

Although he had initiated it, Hermann was the first to pull back from the ill advised kiss. He refused to look at Newton after, choosing instead to stand up and retreat to the other side of the small room like a startled animal. He knew he looked ridiculous with his back to the wall, staring at the floor like he could make it catch fire, but he couldn’t stand to see the disgust that must be written across his lab partner’s face. Instead he waited silently for Newton to yell or worse, leave.

“Herms?” Newton ventured softly.

Hermann continued to stare at the floor.

“Hermann?”

His voice was much closer this time, and Hermann looked up to find Newton standing practically toe to toe with him. He flinched away despite himself.

“I am very sorry Newton. That was… unfair. Please feel free to leave. I understand if you wish to never speak to me again. ”

“Like hell.” Newton replied through clenched teeth.

And yet Hermann felt no anger there, no resentment or hatred in the blue haze of their connected feelings, and he couldn’t help but look closer. Hermann was shocked to find that the unrecognized feeling he had felt so strongly through Newton when he had seen him playing that song was back. The warmth in it mirrored his own feelings so strongly Hermann had no choice but to see it for what it was.

Newton wanted him.

It was idiotic, it was confused, it made no sense at all but there it was; echoing back and forth between them, growing with each passing second. He wasn’t the only one pining for once.

~

Newt smiled hesitantly, just a crooked pull at one corner of his mouth. He felt the rush of understanding and desire that filled Hermann finally, and let his mouth fall into a full lopsided grin.

“You’ve got to call me Newt now dude” he said, trying to sound as calm as he didn’t feel.

Hermann smiled and that right there made it all worth it, the apocalypse, the drift, the embarrassingly personal dreams, all of it, because Hermann’s smile was everything good in the world wrapped into an expression.

God damn he was fucked.

And suddenly there was nothing left to think or do but rest a hand on the side of his head, comb his fingers through the soft undercut, and pull him into another kiss.

Science be damned, _this_ was what he was made for.

~

Hermann refused to back down this time around, because although it was about as far as they got from arguing, there was still a certain fight to it; not against each other but for all they missed in between themselves, and Hermann and Newton both seemed to have a lot left to fight for in the press of their lips, the clashing of their teeth, and the pull of tongue brushing sensitive skin. It was half experiment, half battle and either way it was exactly what they’ve always been good at. Hermann would never forgive himself for wasting so much time hiding from this. This was the only kind of heaven he wanted to believe in. This was…

Over?

Before Hermann could wrap his head around what was happening, Newton was pulling away again. Hermann opened his eyes in a panic but found that Newton was still grinning cockily. He relaxed again, raising an eyebrow in what could almost be seen as a challenge.

Newton never could back down from a challenge.

~


End file.
